


…and That's How You Science a Sapphic Seduction

by linearoundmythoughts, Lyrae_Immortalis, Roehrborn



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/F, Season 2 AU, ao3's tag style doesn't lend itself well to the science of lesbian sex, sex is wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 13:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12532100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linearoundmythoughts/pseuds/linearoundmythoughts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrae_Immortalis/pseuds/Lyrae_Immortalis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roehrborn/pseuds/Roehrborn
Summary: Edith Nygma wants to make a move on her crush, Osvalda Cobblepot, while she's still staying in Edith's apartment. Seduction should be a simple enough science to teach herself and have it be effective, shouldn't it?(A genderswap s2 AU)





	…and That's How You Science a Sapphic Seduction

**Author's Note:**

> We drafted this on Discord, we lost our damn minds over this dreamlike lovemaking scene, we hope you enjoy it, thank you for reading ♥

She learned it from a movie. It’s embarrassing, it’s humiliating, she just ruined her only friendship, and her only excuse, if she could speak out loud, is that she learned it from a _movie_. Pressing her fingertips into her eyes, under her glasses, she groans, wanting to roll up into a ball. Any false confidence she had _before_ is dissipated; any assurance she had that what she just tried was a socially accepted, let alone _marginally effective_ seduction technique is significantly diminished. Imitating the sexually-confident women from old eras of cinema was such a pathetically bad idea, she wants to reject responsibility for having tried it!

Maybe it’s because she’s so flat-chested, that it wasn’t appealing—sitting down on the edge of the bed, while Osvalda sits propped up against the pillows, and leaning forward just so, so that her entire bare chest, sans slip and bra, was on display, blinking at Osvalda over her glasses in a way that Edith hopped was coquettishly. 

_Maybe she just doesn’t see you that way, idiot_ , her mind hisses back. The look in Osvalda’s eyes turns sharp; she swallows and soothes her own facial expression before she forces a calm tone, asks _What the hell was that_ as Eddie fumbles with her glasses, sitting back up straight, trying to redo the buttons she’d opened before giving up, her fingers useless. 

Eddie tries to explain, but she needs Osvalda to _try_ to meet her halfway there. It’s too much to say out loud, too hard to find the words…

They both are… _awkward_ …but it’s possible. Eddie knows it’s possible.

That's what it'll come down to—the set-up is there, Eddie’s intents and desires are clear (she feels)—Osvalda just has to open the door and Eddie will be there—one touch would be the door opening—

Osvalda demands answers, verbal answers; Eddie only half answers each inquiry. Osvalda glares at her, like she’s scheming, plotting Eddie out like another insurmountable goal she needs to achieve in record-time, something she needs to out-fox by making sure she stays three steps ahead.

It's when Osvalda captures Edde in a hug, a full-body hug, on the bed—a full-body _bed_ hug, that Eddie wonders if her scheme is about to become reality.

Briefly wondering if it’s possible to die from how hard her heart skips a beat when Osvalda just slides her hand up under Eddie’s clothes, trailing her fingers lightly across Eddie’s chest, asking _if this is okay_ and Eddie grabs her hand and places it on her breast and says _yes, this is okay, too_. She didn’t know she could be this _brazen_ , didn’t know it would earn her Osvalda coaxing Eddie to roll over onto her back, Eddie shivering as Osvalda truly touches her bare skin for the first time. 

Osvalda leans in and whispers how _beautiful_ Eddie is, continues say something something…soft, chanting along the side of Eddie’s neck, under her ear, her warm breath lavishing little compliments posed as questions, such as, _do you have any idea how perfect you are_ —Eddie feels her panties get wetter, and she moans _please, please, please touch me_ , her shamelessness increasing along with her arousal. She pulls Osvalda closer and practically cries out for her to continue, but no words form. 

They’re both still in pajamas, button-up tops and drawstring pants, both sets belonging to Eddie—too baggy and ill-fitting on her, too _undeserving_ on Osvalda’s voluptuous shape—and Eddie trembles when Osvalda snakes a hand up her top again, grabs Osvalda by the biceps and lets out a choked sob trapped in the center of her throat, wet and high. 

Eddie can’t even form a decent response to Osvalda asking, voice strong and smooth but soft, _Do you want me to keep touching you_ —she only makes a noise she’s _entirely_ aware is pretty loud and desperate, whining mostly, as she rubs her legs together mindlessly. Osvalda presses both her palms against both of Eddie’s knees and looks at her darkly, already too intimately, and Eddie whines again, pleading. It wouldn’t take much for Osvalda to pry her legs apart…only the slightest raking of nails on the inner thigh and some soft words…kisses, too, all the kisses, just like Eddie envisioned when she indulged, _succumbed_ ,to this fantasy earlier in the shower, when she shoved her knuckles in her mouth as she rubbed herself off frantically, hoping to expel all the desires from her system. 

She ends up doing just that, biting her knuckles, as Osvalda starts kissing down her body, working her way through the buttons on Eddie’s flannel nightshirt, pressing her lips against Eddie’s belly first, as she undoes the buttons from the bottom up. All the little kisses, touches, to each new inch of skin—Osvalda and Eddie both breathe in so shakily that they tremble. It’s _reverent_ , how Osvalda explores each inch of Eddie’s skin, and tears prick her eyes the moment she realizes that. The added anticipation and hot breaths lick along Eddie’s skin and make her shake, harder than she thought she would doing this.

Eddie throws her arm across her eyes, knocking her glasses askew, _lost_ in all those new sensations. She feels like a _mess_ ; Osvalda murmurs that she looks _delicious_. That makes her bite down on her wrist, as she pushes her face into the pillow, face flushed, feeling embarrassed. 

Osvalda gets concerned, asks in a husky tone if she's doing something wrong; she keeps checking in with Eddie before she proceeds, and Eddie just moans and nods for Osvalda to continue, muttering _please, please_. 

It’s not long until Osvalda starts petting her hair, reminding Eddie to _breathe_ , because she’s started choking on nothing but sensation. Eddie shudders underneath her, her whole body quaking; she keeps fucking down on nothing, her whole shirt unbuttoned and arms thrown back. 

She doesn't know what to _do_ with her arms, she's forgotten they're even there, too concentrated on _other_ areas. On Osvalda's hot breath moving up her body, as more buttons are undone…Eddie throws her head back as she spills a litany of nonsensical sounds from her mouth, her skin shivering all over.

Nipples tight and tingling, her thighs trembling and wanting to close around Osvalda, Eddie slaps a hand down onto her shoulder and tightens her hold when Osvalda licks, then sucks on one of her nipples. Osvalda responds by holding Eddie even closer to her, her hands gripping Eddie's sides too firmly, those strong fingers digging into Eddie’s flesh. And when Osvalda moves to the other nipple, Eddie throws her leg around her, loudly moaning Osvalda’s name, not caring, nor even aware of how noisy she’s being. 

She wraps herself around Osvalda’s thigh and press herself close, some instinctual part of her brain tries to make her get off just by humping Osvalda's leg, baring down on muscle and bone and fabric, the only pressure, only relief she can find. 

The way Eddie’s breath catches in her throat when Osvalda’s hand moves between her legs earns her an appreciative, humming groan from Osvalda, and Eddie feels herself growing wetter, growing hotter against Osvalda’s leg, even through the layers they’re both wearing. The extra friction of the fabric riding against her and getting her _closer_ , Osvalda still holding her fast, despite how much Eddie’s wiggling, rocking her body through every sensation, rolling her whole torso as Osvalda tries to wrap her arms around her. Eddie _cannot_ hold still, can _never_ stay still, not like this—she is chasing pleasure at Osvalda’s hands, and lips…everything… _all of it_ —

Osvalda breathes in deeply when she finally gets down to Eddie’s crotch, doesn’t even take her pants and panties off yet, simply rubs her through them, causing Eddie to throw both her arms over her face and keen, body still flailing, loose-limbed and moaning.

Eddie feels she could come just like this, so easily, she _could_ , with Osvalda over her and all around her. Of course…even the parts Osvalda isn’t touching, Eddie feels her there; she feels her all over—

Moving her face further down, Osvalda gets far enough, close enough, to mouth over Eddie’s panties and she's _gone_ —too hot, her hot breath is _too much_ —it makes the fabric of her panties feel different and it's too good. Osvalda tells Eddie how gorgeous she is in this very moment, how much of a vision she is all spread out and gasping and moaning, her hair spread all over the pillow, like a halo. 

Her panting breaths are visible as her chest rises up and down; she watches it while she runs her own hands over her chest and down her stomach, legs twisting and turning. She runs her hands over all the places that Osvalda has touched, feeling them differently now—how differently Osvalda makes her feel, compared to herself, how being touched by Osvalda makes her a new woman, makes her feel settled into her body and like her body is nothing but energy and static, all at once.

Eddie’s mind is moving quickly, but not the way it normally does, how it goes off in a thousand directions. Now, it's only focused on _here_ and _now_ and Osvalda's _hands_ and _mouth_ and _words_ , desperately trying to hold onto each new thing but anticipating the next, even though she doesn't know what to expect. 

Osvalda laps at the center of Eddie’s panties, and all it takes is that one, hot press of her tongue to overcome Eddie, to send her tumbling over the edge.

Imagining how _lost_ she would feel after she comes wasn’t something Eddie could have ever envisioned as part of the experience.

 _That's_ what people said sex would feel like. Wow. _Wow_.

Sex is _wow_.

She should be doing, saying something, anything, but instead she’s staring up at the ceiling, gasping, just thinking, on a loop, _sex is wow_.

But the incredible thing is that Osvalda is still there, and still so warm, and still so full of love and adoration. Osvalda kisses her soft, just lip press after lip press to Eddie’s over-heated skin, muttering little soft words, as she comes down. She can't comment on the tear she feels on Osvalda’s cheek, can't mouth back a response to the reverent _Thank you_ Osvalda rasps against her temple, stroking Eddie’s hair.

Shouldn't she say _thank you_ , too…?

She doesn't notice she’s started crying too, speechless and so fulfilled, wrapping her arms around Osvalda's shoulders, holding her close, until Osvalda wipes away her tears. For a while they breathe quietly, their tears silent, but their faces are so close, cheek to cheek, and they feel so close together. It’s erotic in it’s emotionalness; they’re both new enough to the idea and totally new to each other, new to it all, sharing it together….

Eddie can’t help it, her _mouth_ can't help it; she clings to Osvalda and starts kissing and licking and nipping where she can reach, on her cheek, her jaw, her neck, her breasts—she needs to know how _all_ of it feels, tastes, what causes Osvalda to feel as good as she’s made Eddie feel.

She's amazed how fast she comes back into herself, into her own senses, when it's Osvalda on her back, her soft gasps filling the air around them, her shudders reverberating between them, when it’s Osvalda clutching Eddie out of desperation with those strong hands, yielding to and claiming Eddie all at once.

Once she's started, she can't stop. She needs to taste, touch, feel Osvalda all at once, racing through undoing buttons, shoving her own extra set of pajamas out of the way, off Osvalda’s curvaceous frame, exposing her pale skin, and once she’s between Osvalda’s thighs, with no barriers between them, licking and lapping again and _again_ at her, never stopping, never _wanting_ to stop, continuing through each of Osvalda’s shouts and spasms. Her scalp is sore from her hair being tugged on, her jaw is tired and her face is sticky and she wants to fall asleep with her cheek pressed against Osvalda’s thigh, but a gentle pull has her climbing back into another of Osvalda’s firm, warm hugs, the bare parts of their bodies sealed together as they roll on their sides, only communicating through glances and smiles.


End file.
